


it's a whirlwind.

by marin27



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: College Student Peter Parker, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, One-Shots, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, prompt collection, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:55:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22898374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marin27/pseuds/marin27
Summary: My tumblr Starker Prompt Collection
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	it's a whirlwind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote Peter to be older and have way more confidence than our teen MCU Peter does. Cause I like confident Peter with down on himself Tony. It’s mostly just pure fluff. It’s mostly just unedited because I’m just trying to write as much as I can.

“Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark! Over here!”

“Mr. Stark, would you look into the camera, please?”

“Pose for me, would you?”

Tony’s lips strain to keep its curve, eyes hardening under the scrutiny of every camera and stare pointed at his way. Even after years of being within the public’s eye, Tony still gets the same itch under his skin, like he wants to run away at any opportunity given.

Some days it’s good, where he goes along with it, a smile on his face as he answers as many questions as possible thrown at him. Those are the days when he does have something of importance to say. On others, the paparazzi catches him in his worst moments, highlighting the sharp, jagged edges of the image of Tony Stark. He rarely gets a break.

Nowadays, it seems like the crowd doesn’t even let up. And it’s all because of the recent news: Tony Stark is dating a college student.

If Tony met the personification of the terrible rags people call magazines, Tony wouldn’t hesitate to blast it into smithereens with his latest suit in his garage.

Nevertheless, he’d rather have the public know and be obnoxious about it than to hide his relationship with Peter in public. Besides, everyone who knew before the news broke out were extremely supportive.

Tony drops one last smile before slipping into his Audi, heaving a sigh that relieves him of weight off his shoulders. He drives away from the eager crowd, ready to forget about the comments he read on some of the publication websites online.

—

“Mr. Parker, Boss has arrived.” Peter purses his lips to curb the urge to correct his name. He knows it would be fruitless anyway.

Peter saw the press release for his official statement about their relationship. It was brutal. Peter could identify almost every bad tell of Tony; he was practically a tensed, worked up version of himself. He took a lot of heat for the fact he’s dating Peter, someone who is a third of his age.

This means Peter is aware of how much Tony despises being on front covers of newspapers and headlines. So, he has taken up getting Tony to like having his picture taken a little more as his personal mission. He knows the man can hardly bear a selfie, let alone a photoshoot.

He leans back on his heels, looking over his pet project scattered over the floor.

It’s why Peter wants to create something personal, something that he knows Tony would appreciate receiving because god forbid Peter would _buy_ him something. Peter hates the fact he can’t buy anything for the man who has everything—something he learned very quickly at the start of their relationship.

When he hears footsteps outside their room, Peter scrambles to pile everything together, shoving it under the bed just in time for Tony to open the door. Peter grins sheepishly from the ground, small pieces of paper on his sweatpants, dried hot glue on his fingertips. Tony only raises a brow, not saying anything.

“Hey, Tony!” Peter chirps, almost tripping over himself to get on his feet and cross the room to place a kiss on Tony’s lips. The older melts under the contact and Peter frowns briefly.

“You okay?”

Tony huffs, dryly amused. “Doing great.”

A wince crosses over Peter’s face. “I saw the press release.” His nimble hands pull on the lapels of Tony’s jacket, sliding it off his shoulders to toss it on their bed. His fingers gently dig into Tony’s tense shoulders, difficult knots unfurling under the pressure.

Tony groans, “Was it bad as I think it looked like?” He grabs onto Peter’s hands, holding them in between his palms like they are precious.

“I think it was worse,” Peter mutters, allowing himself to be led to their bed, settling over Tony, thighs straddling his lap. His callused thumbs rub mindless circles into Peter’s sweatpants, a small crease in between his brows.

“I just… I knew what they were thinking and there was nothing I could do to stop it,” Tony mumbles, leaning back into their ridiculous number of pillows. If there was something Peter wouldn’t change for anything in their penthouse, it would be the countless, incredibly comfortable pillows. But he digresses.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself for what they’re thinking,” Peter says, breezy. Tony tsks, sighing, “I know.”

There is something Peter learned early in their relationship, and it’s that Tony puts the entire world on his shoulders—their views, their hopes, their expectations. It’s hard not to when it’s up to him to save the day when the world is about to be taken over by another obnoxious villain with complicated motives.

Peter wonders what Tony thinks the general population’s perception of them is. Tony’s brain is a marvel within itself, the only downside to something that expansive is that it has the tendency to overthink and overanalyze.

“What—What do you think they were thinking about?” Peter asks, voice gentle as if he’s timid to breach the topic. Tony’s lips quirk up, most probably at Peter’s tone.

“That I’m just like every other middle-aged white man with a midlife crisis, that I’m taking advantage of you, pressuring you—”

“Hold up, what—Tony, what?” Peter splutters, flushing, embarrassed.

“If they really are thinking that, they are absolutely wrong—well,” Peter pauses, “maybe not about the ‘like every other middle-aged white man’.”

Tony makes a face, scrunching up his nose (in the way Peter secretly thinks is utterly adorable) and Peter laughs.

“I don’t mean that in a mean way. It’s just straight facts.” Tony cocks a brow, a smile stretching on his lips. “Oh, really?”

Peter laughs even more, “Yes, really— _ah!”_

Tony draws Peter into his arms, yanking him to the side as his fingers find their way to Peter’s sides, tickling him. Peter has rarely ever screamed in his life, but the sound he made as Tony pokes his stomach is a close one.

“TONY! Jesus! I’m kidding!”

“Take it back!” Tony yells, beaming.

“I would never!” Peter giggles, the irresistible urge to run away from his boyfriend bubbling up to the surface the more Tony tickles him. The longer Tony keeps Peter trapped underneath him, the harder it is for Peter to keep his bursts of giggles in. He tries to twist away from Tony’s hold, but to no avail, so Peter is stuck in between huge gulps of air and fits of laughter.

“Take it back! C’mon, Pete!” Tony says, pinning both of Peter’s wrists above his head and using his other free hand to poke the younger man’s belly. Even though Peter knows he can easily break out of his hold—possibly even shove Tony across the room with one arm—he doesn’t do more than trying to twist under Tony, squirming uncontrollably.

“Peace, peace, peace, please,” Peter pants, sweat on his forehead, chest heaving as he takes a moment to catch his breath because, Jesus, if anything, Tony is unrelenting in his mission to get Peter to let up. The tight grip on his wrists says so.

Tony grins, wide and a touch sinister, “Do you take back your statement?”

“If it gets you to stop harassing me, _yes._ ” Peter playfully glares, rolling his eyes.

Tony is still grinning, immensely amused from his own antics and Peter stops. The smile on Tony’s face is almost blinding, making him look years younger than he is despite the accentuated laugh lines, like he’s without a care in the world. It’s beautiful. Peter is saddened by the thought the world doesn’t see it the same way he does.

The curve on his lips slowly slides away, and Peter is struck by the sudden yearning for that smile again.

“Pete, you okay?” Tony asks, leaning in closer, concern crinkling around his eyes (but different from the way he grinned a moment ago, glowing with utter delight—)

“Huh?” Peter mumbles, blinking away the haze of adoration. Tony’s lips twitch.

Peter shoots up from his lying position, leaning over the side of the bed to rummage under the bed. When Peter rights himself, a polaroid camera Tony bought him for his birthday is in his hands, smiling like he’s hit by the best idea

At the sight of the camera, Tony frowns briefly, but his eyes still glitter with something warm. Peter knows he can practically get Tony to agree to things he’s not keen on, just by the sheer amount of love Peter knows Tony has for him.

It’s how Peter was able to get absolutely trashed for his twentieth birthday, and that’s before they even officially got together.

Peter pulls Tony closer, falling back into the pillows rather dramatically, pressing a kiss to Tony’s temple—all of which Tony can’t stop a puff of laughter at. At that exact moment, Tony hears the shutter of Peter’s camera.

Peter is grinning when the film comes out, holding it carefully in his hand. Tony furrows his brows.

“What’s that for?”

Peter shrugs, lips in a sweet smile. “For memories.” Peter nods to the film, and Tony looks up to stare at the newly developed image.

It’s of Tony, caught in between his fit of laughter, eyes closed in bliss as Peter—cheeks still delightfully pink and flushed from the tickling—graces a soft kiss to the side of Tony’s temple. The picture is slightly blurred, but somehow it brings an innate feeling of the photograph being intimate, real and organic, like the moment was captured and collected and printed for Tony to stare at in wonder.

“I know you’re a good photographer, Pete, but even this is undermining it,” Tony mumbles. Peter would laugh, but he only grins and presses a harder kiss on Tony’s lips as he feels the hard thumping of Tony’s heart against his own chest.

“I know. I’m the best,” Peter whispers, and Tony can’t stop himself from laughing into the crook of Peter’s neck.


End file.
